


Nightmare Turned to Dream

by Merfilly



Category: DCU (Comics)
Genre: F/M, First Time, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-12-30
Updated: 2008-12-30
Packaged: 2018-01-13 06:37:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 561
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1216261
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Merfilly/pseuds/Merfilly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Roy comes home to a father's nightmare, but Dinah can make it all better</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nightmare Turned to Dream

**Author's Note:**

> Still blaming Devin Grayson for the fact I ship these two sometimes, reinforced by Brad Meltzer's run on JLA

Roy knew that smell. It had come to be one of the many smells that meant nightmarish hell for him. He followed his nose, already envisioning the chaos, the lurid colors spewed across the interior of his home. He dreaded the sight that awaited him, body tense with anticipation of the worst kind.

He saw Dinah first, a splash of red besmirching her face. Then he saw his baby girl, settled in the crook of Dinah's body, her hands nothing but a sheer mess. 

"Dinah... fingerpaints?"

"We put paper down," the woman said smoothly, as Lian giggled. She held up her drawing that almost had as much paint on it as the child herself did.

"Titans Together!" Lian proudly announced, and Roy could almost see his friends colors in indeterminate blobs.

"Very good," he said with dutiful fatherliness, trying not to think how long it would take to get all that paint off the girl.

* * *

Roy let out a loud sigh as he came back. "The water turned brown."

"She did have a lot of paint on her," Dinah giggled. She ignored his plaintive look and settled happily in the corner of the couch, inviting him to get comfortable. He did so, flopping into the middle of the couch and leaning his head back.

"How is it that every time you babysit, I pay the price?" he jokingly asked.

"Maybe because I don't charge you money?" Dinah said before running a thumb over a smudge from his daughter. "You missed where she patted your cheek."

He reached up to rub the spot, then leaned up to look at Dinah. A half smile caught his lips as he brought his fingers up to play with her hair. "I've seen you with black, and blonde, but this red clashes with mine," he told her. She pulled the offending hair forward, and snorted. 

"It'll come out," she told him. 

"And this little spot?" he asked, finding one right over her pulse point, a calloused fingertip tracing it lightly. 

Dinah tried to control her breathing, her reaction to his unconscious drop of timbre, the way his touch seemed less like a casual friend's.

"I'm sure it will get clean too," she managed to say.

"Might be other places. That paint's sneaky," he said, a wolfish grin on his lips, but the light in his eyes was not amusement. It was something more, something visceral, and something that reminded them both of how long it had been for them alone.

"You think it might? Same goes for you, Boy-o...might have gotten some splashed on you when you started washing her." She let her own voice deepen to a husky pitch, one that had been inviting men to sex for about as long as he'd been wearing funny costumes.

"Wouldn't say no to having a little help being sure," he told her, all bold confidence that belied the fact his mouth was dry.

There was a faint pause, before she stood and started for the bathroom. She stopped at the hall, looked back over her shoulder with her hair falling to frame her face just right, and smiled invitingly. "You wash my back, I'll wash yours."

"Not as much fun in backs as fronts," Roy countered as he quickly followed, before he lost his nerve.

"Guess we'll just have to take turns with the soap then."


End file.
